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Another Bold Offer From Mexico

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TIMES STAFF WRITER

Recalling their experience at the Sundance Film Institute’s screenwriter workshop in Oaxaca, Mexico, the two collaborators flinch.

Director Gerardo Tort was a wide-eyed newcomer; screenwriter Marina Stavenhagen had several scripts under her belt but was eager to swap notes with respected colleagues. But instead of a warm welcome, they were greeted with a cold reality: No one liked their screenplay.

Argentine screenwriter Martin Salinas (“Un Embrujo”) said at the time it was “a catastrophe” and for them to “start all over.”

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Another experienced screenwriter gave them this bit of advice: “If someone calls you a horse, call them an .... If 10 people call you a horse, put on a saddle and give them a ride.” “I was so depressed,” recalled Stavenhagen, who has written several feature films in Mexico. “I left there thinking, why am I doing this? I am going to put up a taco stand in the corner instead.”

Three years later, they proved their critics wrong. Their film, “De La Calle” (“Streeters”), a gripping drama about the life of street children in Mexico City, swept the Mexican version of the Academy Awards. They even had modest commercial success--grossing $5 million in two months at the Mexican box office last year--a difficult feat considering the subject matter.

“De La Calle” will have its United States debut at the Los Angeles Latino Film Festival today.

If there is a lesson in their experience at Sundance, it is to stay true to a vision, said Tort.

“We came home devastated,” said Tort. “But we recovered and we continued forward. We had to do what we thought was right and put our soul into the project. What they did at Sundance was challenge us and force us to show them what we could do.”

“De La Calle” is another in a string of uncompromising independent films from Mexico. Hard-edged films like Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu’s “Amores Perros” and Alfonso Cuaron’s “Y Tu Mama Tambien” have shown that making artistic yet difficult films can be successful at the box office. These films have also demonstrated universal appeal, having been picked up for distribution throughout the world and, in the case of “Amores Perros,” being nominated for an Academy Award.

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“Nobody thought it would be a commercial film,” said “De La Calle” producer Lillian Haugen. “But after ‘Amores Perros’ we knew that people wanted to see more realistic cinema.”

But Haugen had a difficult time raising the $1.5 million she needed to complete the film. They started their project at least two years before “Amores Perros” was released. Like most independent filmmakers, she began production without having all the financing in place. Little by little, the money trickled in. In the end, the film’s financing came from at least half a dozen producers, government agencies and even nonprofit organizations.

Haugen, however, has not seen a return on her investment, considering they spent almost $1 million on advertising and publicity. It is difficult for films to generate a profit margin if they are released only in Mexico. The international market is crucial. In addition, Mexico’s film industry does not have the same financial resources as Hollywood and is only now beginning to see an increase in private investing.

“We need to make alliances with distributors so they can sell abroad,” said Haugen. “We still don’t recuperate from [releasing] in our own territory. To spark investor interest we need to find international distribution.”

Their biggest obstacle at home was convincing financiers that a crew of inexperienced filmmakers could pull off a feature film. Haugen and Tort were in advertising before going into feature filmmaking.

It is perhaps indicative of Mexico’s evolution as a democratic society that they were able to make their film at all.

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When Luis Bunuel’s 1951 classic, surreal drama about street children, “Los Olvidados,” was released, it was panned by critics, and audiences shunned it. Mexico’s intellectual and governing class pounced on it as being unrealistic and painting an unflattering picture of the country--which at the time was enjoying an unparalleled boom.

Bunuel flipped the romanticized notion of the noble pauper on its head. He maintained that poverty does not induce kindness, rather that it necessitates brutality and merciless survival skills. It was not until the film was recognized at the Cannes Film Festival for its vision and novelist Octavio Paz defended “Los Olvidados” publicly that some in Mexico began to see merit in the film.

Fifty years later, “De La Calle” was rewarded by the nation’s filmmaking elite, not only winning 11 Arieles at the Mexican film awards but also best film at the Guadalajara Film Festival. However, Tort said they did face problems with the country’s ratings board. Like Cuaron’s “Y Tu Mama Tambien,” the film was given a C rating, meaning no one under 18 was allowed to see it. Tort believes that rating shut out the audience he targeted. Unlike Cuaron, however, who sued the ratings board, Tort kept quiet.

“I didn’t want to make a big stink about it,” he said. “I told the [ratings board] my opinion.”

While Tort and Stavenhagen had “Los Olvidados” as a frame of reference, they did not want to make comparisons.

“I never intended this film to be a homage to him or to rip [“Los Olvidados”] off,” said Stavenhagen. “I wanted to tell yet another story and give it another interpretation for today. There is nothing original today--we all live with references to what already exists.”

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To maintain authenticity, Tort and Stavenhagen dived into the world of street children. For one year, they met almost daily with groups of kids and social workers throughout Mexico City. They established acting workshops for some of the street children so they could play supporting roles.

They heard horrifying stories of abuse and neglect. Most of the children, said Tort, are on the street by choice.

“The street gives them freedom and certain things they do not have at home,” he said. “It is a lifestyle option. If the street is awful, imagine how horrible it must be where they came from. The movie is very light compared to what they go through in real life.”

Amnesty International estimates approximately 100 million children worldwide live and work in the streets. These children are targets of organ trafficking schemes, prostitution, abuse and “social cleansing” sweeps that sometimes even have the support of local businesses. The most infamous “cleansing” incident occurred in 1993, when a gang of hooded off-duty policemen in Rio de Janeiro opened fire on more than 50 sleeping street children, according to Amnesty International. Seven children and one adult died.

Even so, Tort did not want to make a documentary. The movie, based on a play by Jesus Gonzalez Davila, chronicles the life of two street kids, Rufino and Xochitl. Rufino has to contend with his violent stepfather, a corrupt cop who is dealing drugs on the side. At the same time, Rufino is searching for his real father.

Xochitl is a single mother and former drug addict, who has no visible means of supporting her baby. Together, they hope to flee to Veracruz, a city by the sea, to escape their misery. Unhappily, things do not work out as they planned.

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And that is where Stavenhagen and Tort faced the fiercest criticism at the Sundance workshop. The ending was too sad--the kids’ stories were too morbid, they were told. Why not let the journey end on a more uplifting note? Stavenhagen said she tried to change the ending but that it turned the movie into a sappy melodrama.

“What I loved about this story was the tragedy and not seeing a way out,” said Stavenhagen, who is working on a film with David Riker (“The City”). “Working with these street children was what did it for me--there is no way out for these kids. Why am I going to lie?”

Tort and Stavenhagen understand that the movie may be too harsh for American audiences. But they reckon they made a film that was honest, and if it doesn’t sell abroad, so be it.

“This criteria of what is commercial and what is not is very relative,” said Stavenhagen. “What works are good stories--whether or not they have happy endings.”

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